


One Step Closer

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [2]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Dirty Bad Wrong, Gen, Pre-Slash, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is still loopy from the pain-killers, and Jedikiah ... observes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



When John wakes up, he is warm, content. His body feels heavy, and he’s not quite sure where he is, but for some reason that doesn’t matter.

He feels _good_.

He sighs and tries to move, manages to roll onto his left side, blinks sluggishly against the sensation of soft sheets against his cheek. Everything feels so _nice_.

He presses his face into the fabric, closes his eyes and breathes in deeply.

“Hey, you.”

John feels his face stretch into a broad smile. “Hey.”

“Still a bit loopy from the pain-killers, hm?”

He hears the rustling of clothes right in front of him, and then there’s a hand on his head, fingers stroking through his hair. He makes a delighted sound and lifts up into it, and his mouth falls open in pleasure as the pressure on his scalp intensifies.

Jedikiah hums thoughtfully. “I wanted to talk to you. But it seems you’re still too out of it.”

He retracts his hand, and John moans in protest, forces himself to open his eyes and look up at him.

Jedikiah is standing next to his bed, and he is smiling. John can’t remember if that has ever happened before. He doesn’t think it has.

“We can talk,” he manages, trying to get that smile into focus, while struggling into a sitting position. “I’m up.”

“I had to put you to bed in all your clothes,” Jedikiah informs him, and his voice sounds a bit off. John misses his hand in his hair, and stares at where it is buried in Jedikiah’s pants pocket. “That hasn’t happened in a while.”

John doesn’t know what to say to this, mostly because his mind is fully focused on Jedikiah’s hands.

“John?” Jedikiah takes his hands out of his pockets and crouches down next to John’s bed. “Are you with me?”

John hums and blinks up at him, and Jedikiah’s smile intensifies. “I gave you a bit much, didn’t I?”

His right hand comes up to John’s cheek, and John’s lashes flutter close. Jedikiah’s thumb brushes across his cheekbone, and he moans.

“Oh, I gave you far too much.” Jedikiah’s voice is a deep, pleasant rumble, and John leans into his hand like a kitten starving for touch. “You should probably sleep that off, hm, John?”

John makes a noncommittal sound and rubs his cheek against Jedikiah’s hand.

Jedikiah clears his throat. “You want me to get you out of these clothes now?”

The question takes a while to register, and then John licks his lips. “Yeah.” He doesn’t open his eyes. “Yeah, please do.”

The hand against his cheek vanishes, and John sways, missing the warm touch almost immediately. Jedikiah steadies him with both hands on his shoulders, and John can feel their warmth through the thin cotton of his t-shirt. It feels really nice.

“Can you hold yourself up for a moment – lift your arms for me?”

John smiles and does as he is asked, and Jedikiah grabs the hem of his t-shirt und pulls it off of him.

The room is warm, and John feels good without the t-shirt. It gets even better when Jedikiah’s hands return to his shoulders, and he can feel them on his naked skin.

“Thank you, John. You can lie down now.”

He presses John down onto the mattress, and John smiles sleepily up at him, his eyes still closed. “I like your hands.”

Jedikiah’s movements still, his hands on John’s shoulders, and John blinks his eyes open. “They are nice hands.”

Jedikiah doesn’t smile anymore. Instead, there’s a tiny little crease between his eyes.

John licks his lips, suddenly worried. “Did I say something wrong?”

The crease deepens, and then evens out. Jedikiah’s hands slide over John’s shoulders and down onto his pectorals. “Of course not.”

John immediately forgets what they were talking about. His skin is tingling with the unfamiliar warmth of another person's hands on him, and his first instinct is to push up into the touch, get as much of it as he possibly can.

He follows this instinct, only to be pushed down again, and he can’t stop the moan as warm palms rub over his sensitive skin.

“John,” Jedikiah is saying above him, “keep still, please.”

“Feels so good,” is all he manages in return, but he tries to do as he’s told, tries to ignore the pleasant burning in his body.

“Do you want me to take your pants off?”

This time John doesn’t need to think about it. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please do.”

John tries to help things along by pushing at the comforter that has pooled around his hips, and Jedikiah gratifies him by pulling it off the bed. “Okay, okay. No need to rush.”

His hands come up to John’s hips, pop open his jeans button and pull down his fly, and John watches their movements from under his lashes. Heat is pooling in his belly.

“Up with your hips, John.”

There’s an edge to Jedikiah’s voice now, making it deeper, rougher. John moans and lifts his hips off the bed.

Jedikiah chuckles. “Just like that.” He grips the waistband of John’s jeans and pulls, and John would never have imagined that the drag of fabric against his skin could ever feel that good.

His whole body feels hot and sensitive, and he grips the sheets with both hands as his hips return to the mattress.

Jedikiah pulls his jeans off the rest of the way, and then he straightens, looks down at John with a private little smile. “You sleep now, yeah?”

John bites his lip. “Please stay?”

Jedikiah escapes a sound that could almost be classified as a laugh. “Oh, no, John. I really need to leave now. I have work to do, you know?”

He deposits the jeans over an empty chair standing at the foot of the bed and grabs the comforter off the floor. “Come and visit me once you’re,” he tilts his head, grins, “sober.”

He drapes the comforter over John, up to his chin, tucks him in as he did when John was a child – and then he leans over, presses a kiss to John’s forehead. “Just so we’re clear: this changes nothing. You’re a good boy, John. A very good boy.”

With that he withdraws, turns around and leaves, and John is on his front and rubbing against the mattress even before he can hear the door clicking shut behind him.


End file.
